LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


SONGS  FROM  THE  CLAY 


MACMILLAN  AND  CO.,  Limited 

LONDON  •  BOMBAY  •  CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK    •     BOSTON    •    CHICAGO 
DALLAS    •    SAN    FRANCISCO 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  Ltd. 

TORONTO 


SONGS 
FROM  THE  CLAY 


BY 


JAMES   ^STEPHENS 

AUTHOR    OF 

THE   CHARWOMAN'S   DAUGHTER,'    '  THE   HILL   OF    VISION, 

'THE   CROCK    OF    GOLD,'    ETC 


MACMILLAN   AND    CO.,  LIMITED 

ST.  MARTIN'S    STREET,  LONDON 

1915 


COPYRIGHT 


CONTENTS 


I'AOE 

And  it  was  Windy  Weather                                 1 

The  Rivals  ..... 

2 

The  Messenger 

4 

The  Daisies 

6 

To  be  Continued 

7 

A  Song  for  Lovers 

9 

The  Horned  Moon 

11 

In  Woods  and  Meadows 

13 

Deirdre        .... 

14 

The  Petal  of  a  Rose 

17 

Sweet  Apple 

18 

The  Red-Haired  Man 

20 

The  Satyr  . 

23 

The  Goat  Paths 

25 

In  the  Night 

28 

The  Earth  Gods 

30 

Hesperus      .... 

.      32 

A  Tune  on  a  Reed 

34 

The  Market 

37 

Independence 

38 

The  Wild  Man    . 

39 

The  Twins    . 

40 

The  Waste  Places 

41 

Washed  in  Silver 

45 

The  Voice  of  God 

.      46 

vi     SONGS  FROM  THE  CLAY 


The  Centaurs       . 

PACE 

.     48 

The  Lark     ...... 

.     50 

The  Snare   ...... 

.     52 

The  Cage     ...... 

.      54 

Barbarians   ...... 

.     56 

The  Masterless  Man  . 

.     58 

The  Buds     ...... 

59 

Green  Boughs      . 

.     61 

As  Evening  Falls         . 

.     63 

Blue  Stars  and  Gold 

.     64 

The  Imp        ...... 

.     65 

The  Nodding  Stars 

.     67 

The  Crown  of  Thorns 

.     70 

The  Ancient  Elf 

.     71 

The  King  of  the  Fairy  Men 

.     13 

Irony   ...... 

.     74 

The  Four  Old  Men     . 

.     75 

Women  Shapes      .... 

.     76 

The  Clouds           .... 

.     78 

This  Way  to  Winter 

.     80 

Etched  in  Frost 

.     82 

When  the  Leaves  Fall 

.     84 

In  Green  Ways   .... 

.     85 

At  the  Edge  of  the  Sea    . 

.     86 

Dark  Wings          .... 

.     88 

The  Liar      ..... 

.     90 

The  Tramp's  Dream 

.     93 

The  Road    ..... 

.     97 

A  Reply       ..... 

•     99 

The  Holy  Time  .... 

.   105 

AND  IT  WAS  WINDY  WEATHER 

Now  the  winds  are  riding  by, 
Clouds  are  galloping  the  sky, 
And  the  trees  are  lashing  their 
Leafy  plumes  upon  the  air ; 
They  are  crying  as  they  sway — 
"  Pull  the  roots  out  of  the  clay, 
Dance  away,  O,  dance  away; 
Leave  the  rooted  place  and  speed 
To  the  hill-side  and  the  mead, 
To  the  roaring  seas  we  go, 
Chase  the  airy  birds,  and  know, 
Flying  high,  flying  high, 
All  the  freedom  of  the  sky, 
All  the  freedom  of  the  sky." 


B 


THE  RIVALS 

I  heard  a  bird  at  dawn 
Singing  sweetly  on  a  tree, 

That  the  dew  was  on  the  lawn, 
And  the  wind  was  on  the  lea ; 

But  I  didn't  listen  to  him, 
For  he  didn't  sing  to  me. 

I  didn't  listen  to  him, 
For  he  didn't  sing  to  me 

That  the  dew  was  on  the  lawn 
And  the  wind  was  on  the  lea  ; 

I  was  singing  at  the  time 
Just  as  prettily  as  he. 

I  was  singing  all  the  time, 
Just  as  prettily  as  he, 


THE  RIVALS 

About  the  dew  upon  the  lawn 
And  the  wind  upon  the  lea  ; 

So  I  didn't  listen  to  him 
As  he  sang  upon  a  tree. 


THE  MESSENGER 

Bee  !      tell     me     whence     do     you 

come  ? 
Ten  fields  away,  twenty  perhaps, 
Have  heard  your  hum. 

If  you  are  from  the  north,  you  may 
Have  passed  my  mother's  roof  of  straw 
Upon  your  way. 

If    you   came   from   the    south,   you 

should 
Have  seen  another  cottage  just 
Inside  the  wood. 

And  should  you  go  back  that  way, 

please 
Carry  a  message  to  the  house 
Among  the  trees. 


THE  MESSENGER  5 

Say — I  will  wait  her  at  the  rock 
Beside  the  stream,  this  very  night 
At  eight  o'clock. 

And  ask  your  queen  when  you  get 

home 
To  send  my  queen  the  present  of 
A  honeycomb. 


THE  DAISIES 

In  the  scented  bud  of  the  morning-O, 
When  the  windy  grass  went  rippling 
far, 

I  saw  my  dear  one  walking  slow, 
In  the  field  where  the  daisies  are. 

We  did  not  laugh  and  we  did  not  speak 
As  we  wandered  happily  to  and  fro  ; 

I  kissed  my  dear  on  either  cheek, 
In  the  bud  of  the  morning-O. 

A  lark  sang  up  from  the  breezy  land, 
A  lark  sang  down  from  a  cloud  afar, 

And  she  and  I  went  hand  in  hand, 
In  the  field  where  the  daisies  are. 


TO  BE  CONTINUED 

I  smiled  at  the  angry  maid, 

And  said  that  I  did  not  care 
Whether  she  went  or  stayed. 

And  she,  going  down  the  glade, 
Thought,    "Now    he    will    fall    to 
prayer." 
I  smiled  at  the  angry  maid. 

Indeed  I  was  sore  afraid ; 

But  I  said  it  was  her  affair 
Whether  she  went  or  stayed. 

About  her  a  nimbus  rayed 

Where  the  sun  made  love  to  her  hair. 
I  smiled  at  the  angry  maid. 


8  TO  BE  CONTINUED 

And  while,  like  a  fool,  I  played, 

I  had  not  a  smile  to  spare 
Whether  she  went  or  stayed. 

She  in  her  youth  arrayed  ! 

I  stolid  and  scant  of  hair  ! 
I  smiled  at  the  angry  maid 

Whether  she  went  or  stayed. 


A  SONG  FOR  LOVERS 

The  moon  is  shining  on  the  sea  : 
Every  night  the  moon  looks  down 

Through  the  spaces  quietly  ; 

And  no  matter  though  I  be 
In  the  houses  of  the  town, 

Something  always  says  to  me, 

The  moon  is  shining  on  the  sea. 

Along  the  boulevard  I  pace, 
Peeping  up  among  the  trees, 

And  I  see  her  gentle  face 

Looking  through  immensities  ; 

And  while  I  stare  there  comes  to  me 

The  distant  murmur  of  the  sea. 

For  they  love  each  other  well  : 
All  across  the  depth  of  space 


10       A  SONG  FOR  LOVERS 

They  are  reaching  out  their  arms, 

They  are  looking  face  to  face, 
The  pretty,  timid  moon  and  the 
Poor,  unhappy,  little  sea. 


THE  HORNED  MOON 

The  heavens  were  silent  and  bare, 
Not  a  star  lit  the  heights  overhead, 

There  was  not  a  stir  in  the  air, 
And  the   people  were  all  gone  to 
bed. 

I  was  there  all  alone  in  the  night, 
With  the  moon,  and  we  talked  for  a 
while, 

And  her  face  was  a  wonder  of  light, 
And  her  smile  was  a  beautiful  smile. 

She  leaned  down  and  I  nearly  went 

mad 

(And  she  was  as  frightened  as  me), 

But  I  got  the  kiss  that  she  had 

Intended  to  give  to  the  sea. 

11 


12        THE  HORNED  MOON 

Then  the  sea  gave  a  leap  of  surprise, 
And  shouted  that  she  was  a  jade, 

So  the  moon  ran  away  through  the 
skies, 
And  I  hid  myself  in  the  glade. 

After  that  we  were  never  alone, 
We  were  watched  day  and  night, 
and  they  tied 
The    unhappy    young    moon    to    her 
throne, 
Till  I  married  a  different  bride. 


IN  WOODS  AND  MEADOWS 

Play    to    the    tender    stops,    though 
cheerily  : 
Gently  my  soul,  my  song  :    let  no 
one  hear  : 
Sing  to  thyself  alone  ;   thine  ecstasy 

Rising  in  silence  to  the  inward  ear 

That  is  attuned  to  silence  :  do  not.  tell 

A  friend,  a  bird,  a  star,  lest  they 

should  say — 
He  danced  in  woods  and  meadows  all 
the  day, 
Waving  his  arms,  and  cried  as  evening 
fell, 
"  0,  do  not  come,"  and  cried,  "  O, 
come,  thou  queen, 
And  walk  with  me  unwatched  upon  the 
green 
Under  the  sky.'' 


55 

13 


DEIRDRE 

Do  not  let  any  woman  read  this  verse  ; 
It  is  for  men,   and  after  them  their 

sons 
And  their  sons'  sons. 

The  time  comes  when  our  hearts  sink 

utterly ; 
When  we  remember  Deirdre  and  her 

tale, 
And  that  her  lips  are  dust. 

Once  she  did  tread  the  earth  :    men 

took  her  hand ; 
They  looked  into  her  eyes  and  said 

their  say, 
And  she  replied  to  them. 

14 


DEIRDRE  15 

More  than  a  thousand  years  it  is  since 

she 
Was  beautiful :   she  trod  the  waving 

grass  ; 
She  saw  the  clouds. 

A  thousand  years  !     The  grass  is  still 

the  same, 
The   clouds   as   lovely   as   they   were 

that  time 
When  Deirdre  was  alive. 

But  there  has  never  been  a  woman 

born 
Who   was    so  beautiful,  not    one    so 

beautiful 
Of  all  the  women  born. 

Let    all   men   go    apart   and    mourn 

together ; 
No  man   can  ever   love   her ;    not   a 

man 
Can  ever  be  her  lover. 


16  DEIRDRE 

No  man  can  bend  before  her :  no  man 

say— 
What  could  one  say  to  her  ?    There 

are  no  words 
That  one  could  say  to  her  ! 

Now  she  is  but  a  story  that  is  told 
Beside  the  fire  !     No  man  can  ever  be 
The  friend  of  that  poor  queen. 


THE  PETAL  OF  A  ROSE 

Let  us  be  quiet  for  a  while, 

The  morrow  comes  :  let  us  be  still : 
Let  us  close  our  eyes  and  smile, 

Knowing  that  the  morrow  will 
Come  as  certain  as  the  sun 

Or  a  sorrow  :   let  us  be 
Peaceful  till  this  night  be  done, 

And  we  waken  up  to  see 
That  the  thing  is  not  in  view, 

That  the  memory  is  gone, 
And  the  world  is  made  anew 

Different  for  every  one  : 
Different !     The  morrow  glows 

Where  the  black  wings  spread  and 
brood, 
Where  the  petal  of  a  rose 

Blushes  in  the  solitude. 

17  n 


SWEET  APPLE 

(After  Sappho) 

At  the  end  of  the  bough,  at  the  top 
of  the  tree 
(As  fragrant,  as  high,  and  as  lovely 
as  thou !), 
One   sweet   apple   reddens   which   all 
men  may  see 
At  the  end  of  the  bough. 


Swinging  full  to  the  view,  though  the 
gatherers  now 

Pass,  and  evade,  overlook  busily  : 
Overlook !  nay,  but  pluck  it ! 

They  cannot  tell  how. 

18 


SWEET  APPLE  19 

For  it  swings  out  of  reach  as  a  cloud, 
and  as  free 
As  a  star,  or  thy  beauty,which  seems 
too,  I  vow, 
Remote  as  the  sweet  rosy  apple — ah 
me  ! 
At  the  end  of  the  bough. 


THE  RED-HAIRED  MAN 

But  what  is  it  that  I  have  done  to 
you  : 
Why  did  you  go  away  so  suddenly  : 
Is  it  that  I  am  ugly  :    is  it  true 
That  I  am  very  ugly  :    did  you  see 
Me  peeping  like  a  satyr  through  a 
tree  : 
Was  it  my  ugly  face  that  frightened 
you? 

Was  it  my  ugly  face,  say,  was  it  so  : 

Was   it  my   figure,   tell  me,   am   I 

lame  : 

Do  I  go  hopping  like  a  wounded  crow 

Under  a  hedge  :  come,  speak  to  me, 

my  dame  ! 

20 


THE  RED-HAIRED  MAN     21 

Or  have  you  heard  of  me  an  evil 
fame  : 
Is  that  the  reason  why  you  had  to  go  ? 

You  had  to  go  !    Or  did  you  go  for 
fun, 
To  see  if  I  would  come  and  search 
for  you  ? 
If  it  be  thus,  behold  !    the  game  is 
done, 
For  I  am  seeking,  calling,  torn  in 

two, 
Lost  and  bewildered  !    what  am  I 
to  do 
To  bring  you  back  again,  my  hope, 
my  sun  ! 

My  hope,  my  sun,  my  only  thing  of 

true  : 
My  promise  and  my  treasure,   my 

delight  : 
My  inmost,  secret  dream  that  no  one 

knew  : 


22     THE  RED-HAIRED  MAN 

My  sun  that  shines  upon  me  in  the 

night  : 
My  moon  that  looks  at  me  when  day 

is  bright : 
What  is  it,  then,  that  I  have  done  to 

you? 


THE  SATYR 

There  came  a  satyr  creeping  through 
the  wood, 
His  hair  fell  on  his  breast,  his  legs 
were  slim  : 
His  eyes  were  laughing  wickedly,  he 
stood 
And  peeped  about  on  every  side  of 
him. 

He  peeped  about,  he  minced  upon  the 
ground, 
He  put  a  thin  hand  up  to  hide  a 
grin  : 
He  doubled  up  and  laughed  without  a 
sound  ; 
The  very  bodiment  of  happy  sin. 

23 


24  THE  SATYR 

The  bodiment  of  sin  :  timid  and  wild 
And  limber  as  a  goat :    his  pointed 
feet 
Were  not  at  peace  an  instant :  like  a 
child 
He  danced  and  glanced,  and  like  a 
goat  was  fleet. 

He  danced,  he  peeped,  but  at  a  sound 

I  made, 
A   crackling   twig,    he   turned   and 

suddenly 
In  three  great  jumps  he  bounded  to 

the  shade, 
And  disappeared  among  the  greenery. 


THE  GOAT  PATHS 

The  crooked  paths  go  every  way 
Upon  the  hill — they  wind  about 
Through  the  heather  in  and  out 

Of  the  quiet  sunniness. 

And  there  the  goats,  day  after  day, 
Stray  in  sunny  quietness, 

Cropping  here  and  cropping  there, 
As  they  pause  and  turn  and  pass, 

Now  a  bit  of  heather  spray, 
Now  a  mouthful  of  the  grass. 

In  the  deeper  sunniness, 

In  the  place  where  nothing  stirs, 
Quietly  in  quietness, 

In  the  quiet  of  the  furze, 
For  a  time  they  come  and  lie 
Staring  on  the  roving  sky. 

25 


26  THE  GOAT  PATHS 

If  you  approach  they  run  away, 

They  leap  and  stare,  away  they 
bound, 

With  a  sudden  angry  sound, 
To  the  sunny  quietude  ; 

Crouching   down    where    nothing 
stirs 

In  the  silence  of  the  furze, 
Couching  down  again  to  brood 
In  the  sunny  solitude. 


If  I  were  as  wise  as  they 

I  would  stray  apart  and  brood, 

I  would  beat  a  hidden  way 

Through  the  quiet  heather  spray 
To  a  sunny  solitude  ; 

And  should  you  come  I'd  run  away, 
I  would  make  an  angry  sound, 
I  would  stare  and  turn  and  bound 

To  the  deeper  quietude, 

To  the  place  where  nothing  stirs 
In  the  silence  of  the  furze. 


THE  GOAT  PATHS  27 

In  that  airy  quietness 

I  would  think  as  long  as  they  ; 
Through  the  quiet  sunniness 

I  would  stray  away  to  brood 
By  a  hidden  beaten  way 

In  a  sunny  solitude. 

I  would  think  until  I  found 
Something  I  can  never  find, 

Something  lying  on  the  ground, 
In  the  bottom  of  my  mind. 


IN  THE  NIGHT 

There  always  is  a  noise  when  it  is 

dark ; 
It  is  the  noise  of  silence  and  the  noise 
Of  blindness. 

The  noise  of  silence  and  the  noise  of 

blindness 
Do  frighten  me, 
They  hold  me  stark  and  rigid  as  a 

tree  ! 

These  frighten  me, 

These  hold  me  stark  and  rigid  as  a 

tree  ! 
Because  at  last  their  tumult  is  more 

loud 
Than  thunder. 

28 


IN  THE  NIGHT  29 

Because  at  last 

Their     tumult    is    more    loud    than 

thunder : 
They  terrify  my  soul, 
They  tear  my  heart  asunder  ! 


THE  EARTH  GODS 

The  gods  are  on  the  mountain,  they 
Have  sat  together  in  a  ring 

For  a  night  and  for  a  day 
Talking  over  everything. 

Talking  over  many  things. 

All  the  gods  are  sitting  there, 
And  from  every  forehead  springs 

A  fiery  plume  upon  the  air. 


Forty  feet  into  the  air 

The  flames  are  roaring,  and  the  sky 
Meets  the  marble  brows  of  care, 

As  they  talk  of  you  and  I. 

30 


THE  EARTH  GODS  31 

While  they  talk  of  you  and  I 
Do  not  make  a  sound,  be  still, 

Hide  among  the  leaves  and  fly 
From  the  gods  upon  the  hill. 


HESPERUS 

(After  Sappho) 

Upon  the   sober   sky   thy   robes   are 
spread, 
They  drape    the    twilight,    veil    on 
quiet  veil, 

Until   the   lingering   daylight   all   has 
fled 
Before  thee,  modest  goddess,  shadow- 
pale  : 

The  hushed  and  reverent  sky 

Her  diadem  of  stars  has  lifted  high. 

The  tender  lamb,  the  bleating  kid,  the 
fawn, 
All    that    the    sunburnt    day    has 
scattered  wide, 

32 


HESPERUS  33 

Thou  dost  regather,   holding  till  the 
dawn 
Each  flower  and  tree  and  beast  unto 
thy  side  : 
The  sheep  come  to  the  pen, 
The  dreams  come  to  the  men, 
And  to  the  mother's  breast 
The  tired  child  doth  come  and  take 
his  rest. 

Evening  gathers  everything 

Scattered  by  the  morning, 
Fold  for  sheep  and  nest  for  wing, 
Evening  gathers  everything, 
Child  to  mother,  queen  to  king 

Running  at  thy  warning  ; 
Evening  gathers  everything 

Scattered  by  the  morning. 


A  TUNE  ON  A  REED 


I  have  a  pipe  of  oaten  straw, 
I  play  upon  it  when  I  may, 

And  the  music  that  I  draw 
Is  as  happy  as  the  day. 

It  has  seven  holes,  and  I 
Play  upon  it  high  and  low ; 

I  can  make  it  laugh  and  cry, 
I  can  make  it  banish  woe. 


Any  tune  you  like  to  name 
I  will  play  it  at  the  word, 

Old  or  new  is  all  the  same, 
I'm  as  ready  as  a  bird. 

34 


A  TUNE  ON  A  REED         35 

No  one  pipes  so  happily, 
Not  a  piper  can  succeed 

When  I  lean  against  a  tree 
Blowing  gently  on  my  reed. 


36        A  TUNE  ON  A  REED 


ii 

But  there  is  a  tune,  and  though 
I  try  to  play  it  day  and  night, 

Blowing  high  and  blowing  low, 
I  can  never  get  it  right. 

I  know  the  tune  without  a  flaw, 
And  yet  that  tune  I  cannot  play 

On  my  pipe  of  oaten  straw, 

Though  I  practise  night  and  day. 

It  seems  to  me  I  never  will 

Play  again  the  happy  air 
Which  I  heard  upon  a  hill 

When  the  Shee  were  dancing  there. 

Little  pipe  !   be  good  to  me  ! 

And  play  the  tune  I  want  to  play, 
Or  I  will  smash  you  on  a  tree, 

And  throw  your  wicked  halves  away. 


THE  MARKET 

A  man  came  to  me  at  the  fair 

And  said,  "  If  you've  a  poet's  tongue 

Tumble  up  and  chant  the  air 
That  the  stars  of  morning  sung. 

"  I'll  pay  you,  if  you  sing  it  nice, 
A  penny-piece." — I  answered  flat, 

"  Sixpence  is  the  proper  price 
For  a  ballad  such  as  that." 

But  he  stared  and  wagged  his  head, 
Growling  as  he  passed  along, 

"  Sixpence  !   well,  I'll  see  you  dead 
Before  I  pay  that  for  a  song." 

I  saw  him  buy  three  pints  of  stout 
With  the  sixpence — dirty  lout ! 


37 


INDEPENDENCE 

I  grew  single  and  sure, 
And  I  will  not  endure 
That  my  mind  should  be  seen 
By  the  sage  or  the  boor. 

I  will  keep,  if  I  can, 
From  each  brotherly  man : 
The  help  of  their  hands 
Is  no  part  of  my  plan. 

I  will  rise  then  and  go 
To  the  land  of  my  foe, 
For  his  scowl  is  the  sun 
That  shall  cause  me  to  grow. 


38 


THE  WILD  MAN 

Where  the  stars  are  singing  high 
In  their  mighty  dwellings,  I 
Have  a  habitation  too, 
And  I  slip  away  from  you, 
In  the  night-time  or  the  day, 
And  you  don't  know  I'm  away. 

I  can  go  out  when  I  please, 

I  can  soar  upon  a  breeze, 

I  can  dodge  from  any  eye, 

I  can  straddle  on  the  sky, 

I  can  run  away  and  be 

Gone  while  you  are  watching  me. 

Where  the  stars  go  shouting  by 
In  the  heavens,  there  am  I, 
Leaping  like  a  goat  upon 
Jupiter  and  Orion  : 
Then  what  do  I  care  for  thee 
Who  are  always  watching  me. 


39 


THE  TWINS 

Good  and  bad  are  in  my  heart, 
But  I  cannot  tell  to  you 

(For  they  never  are  apart) 
Which  is  stronger  of  the  two. 

I  am  this,  I  am  the  other, 
And  the  devil  is  my  brother. 
But  my  father  He  is  God, 
And  my  mother  is  the  sod ; 
Therefore,  I  am  safe,  you  see, 
Owing  to  my  pedigree. 

So  I  shelter  love  and  hate 
Like  twin  brothers  in  a  nest, 

Lest  I  find  when  it's  too  late 
That  the  other  was  the  best. 


40 


THE  WASTE  PLACES 


As  a  naked  man  I  go 

Through  the  desert  sore  afraid, 
Holding  up  my  head,  although 

I  am  as  frightened  as  a  maid. 

The  couching  lion  there  I  saw 

From  barren  rocks  lift  up  his  eye, 

He  parts  the  cactus  with  his  paw, 
He  stares  at  me  as  I  go  by. 

He  would  follow  on  my  trace 

If  he  knew  I  was  afraid, 
If  he  knew  my  hardy  face 

Hides  the  terrors  of  a  maid. 

41 


42        THE  WASTE  PLACES 

In  the  night  he  rises,  and 

He  stretches  forth,  he  snuffs  the  air, 
He  roars  and  leaps  along  the  sand, 

He  creeps  and  watches  everywhere. 

His  burning  eyes,  his  eyes  of  bale, 
Through  the  darkness  I  can  see  ; 

He  lashes  fiercely  with  his  tail, 
He  would  love  to  spring  at  me. 

I  am  the  lion  in  his  lair, 

I  am  the  fear  that  frightens  me, 
I  am  the  desert  of  despair, 

And  the  nights  of  agony. 

Night  or  day,  whate'er  befall, 
I  must  walk  that  desert  land, 

Until  I  can  dare  to  call 

The  lion  out  to  lick  my  hand. 


THE  WASTE  PLACES         43 


ii 

As  a  naked  man  I  tread 

The  gloomy  forests,  ring  on  ring, 
Where  the  sun  that's  overhead 

Cannot  see  what's  happening. 

There  I  go  :   the  deepest  shade, 
The  deepest  silence  pressing  me, 

And  my  heart  is  more  afraid 

Than  a  maiden's  heart  would  be. 

Every  day  I  have  to  run 
Underneath  the  demon  tree, 

Where  the  ancient  wrong  is  done, 
While  I  shrink  in  agony. 

There  the  demon  held  a  maid 
In  his  arms,  and  as  she,  daft, 

Screamed  again  in  fear  he  laid 

His  lips  upon  her  lips  and  laughed. 


44        THE  WASTE  PLACES 

And  she  beckoned  me  to  run, 
And  she  called  for  help  to  me. 

And  the  ancient  wrong  was  done 
Which  is  done  eternally. 

I  am  the  maiden  and  the  fear, 
I  am  the  sunless  shade,  the  strife, 

I  the  demon  lips,  the  sneer 
Showing  under  every  life. 

I  must  tread  that  gloomy  way 

Until  I  shall  dare  to  run 
And  bear  the  demon  with  his  prey 

From  the  forest  to  the  sun. 


WASHED  IN  SILVER 

Gleaming  in  silver  are  the  hills, 
Blazing  in  silver  is  the  sea, 

And  a  silvery  radiance  spills 
Where  the  moon  drives  royally. 

Clad  in  silver  tissue  I 

March  magnificently  by. 


45 


THE  VOICE  OF  GOD 

I  bent  again  unto  the  ground, 
And  I  heard  the  quiet  sound 
Which  the  grasses  make  when  they 
Come  up  laughing  from  the  clay. 


"  We  are  the  voice  of  God,"  they  said 
Thereupon  I  bent  my  head 
Down  again  that  I  might  see 
If  they  truly  spoke  to  me. 


But  around  me  everywhere 
Grass  and  tree  and  mountain  were 
Thundering  in  mighty  glee, 
"  We  are  the  voice  of  Deity." 

46 


THE  VOICE  OF  GOD         47 

And  I  leapt  from  where  I  lay, 
I  danced  upon  the  laughing  clay, 
And,  to  the  rock  that  sang  beside, 
"We  are  the  voice  of  God,"  I  cried. 


THE  CENTAURS 

Playing  upon  the  hill  three  centaurs 

were  ! 
They  lifted  each  a  hoof  and  stared 

at  me, 
And  stamped  upon  the  dust. 

They  stamped  the  dust,  they  snuffed 

upon  the  air, 
And    all    their    movements    had    the 

fierce  glee 
Of  power  and  pride  and  lust. 

Of  power  and  pride  and  lust !    then 

with  a  shout 
They  tossed  their  heads  and  wheeled 

and  galloped  round 
In  furious  brotherhood. 

48 


THE  CENTAURS  49 

In  furious  brotherhood,  around,  about, 
They    charged,    they    swerved,    they 

leaped ;    then,  bound  on  bound, 
They  raced  into  the  wood. 


E 


THE  LARK 

There  is  a  small  bird  cowering  in  the 
dark  ; 
His  wing  is  broken,  he  will  never 
sing; 
He   will    not    sing    again,    the    little 
lark 
That  has  a  broken  wing. 


The  lark  that  cowers  with  a  broken 
wing 
Is   all   alone ;     his   mate   has   gone 
away  ; 
To-morrow  in  the  fields  his  mate  will 
sing 
Her  merry  lay. 

60 


THE  LARK  51 

His  mate  will  sing  again  her  merry  lay 
In  the  green  fields,  forgetting  he  is 
gone; 

But  he  will  never  rouse  a  sunny  day 
Again  for  any  one. 


He  will  not  sing  again  for  any  one ; 
The   wing  is  broken  of  that   little 
lark  ; 
His  song  is  broken,  and  his  heart  is 
gone 
There  in  the  dark. 


THE  SNARE 
To  A.  E. 

I  hear  a  sudden  cry  of  pain  ! 

There  is  a  rabbit  in  a  snare  : 
Now  I  hear  the  cry  again, 

But  I  cannot  tell  from  where. 

But  I  cannot  tell  from  where 
He  is  calling  out  for  aid  ; 

Crying  on  the  frightened  air, 
Making  everything  afraid. 

Making  everything  afraid, 
Wrinkling  up  his  little  face, 

As  he  cries  again  for  aid ; 
And  I  cannot  find  the  place ! 

52 


THE  SNARE  53 

And  I  cannot  find  the  place 
Where  his  paw  is  in  the  snare  : 

Little  one  !  Oh,  little  one  ! 
I  am  searching  everywhere. 


THE  CAGE 

It  tried  to  get  from  out  the  cage  ; 
Here  and  there  it  ran,  and  tried 
At  the  edges  and  the  side, 

In  a  busy,  timid  rage. 

Trying  yet  to  find  the  key 
Into  freedom,  trying  yet, 
In  a  timid  rage,  to  get 

To  its  old  tranquillity. 

It  did  not  know,  it  did  not  see, 
It  did  not  turn  an  eye,  or  care 
That  a  man  was  watching  there 

While  it  raged  so  timidly. 

54 


THE  CAGE  55 

It  ran  without  a  sound,  it  tried, 

In  a  busy,  timid  rage, 
To  escape  from  out  the  cage 

By  the  edges  and  the  side. 


BARBARIANS 

I  pause  beside  the  stream  and  hear 
The  waters  talking  all  the  way ; 

If  I  had  a  proper  ear 

I  could  tell  you  what  they  say. 


The  lovely  tree  against  the  sky, 
Which  the  first  sun  rests  upon. 

Has  a  message  for  my  eye, 
If  I  had  a  proper  one. 


On  the  heath  I  met  a  wind, 
It  whispered  to  me  as  I  stood  ; 

If  I  had  a  proper  mind 
I  could  answer,  so  I  could. 

66 


BARBARIANS  57 

I  am  deaf  and  dumb  and  blind, 

No  reply  can  I  invent 
When  a  stream,  a  tree,  a  wind 

Asks  am  I  intelligent. 


THE  MASTERLESS  MAN 

Now  it  is  my  turn  to  sing 
In  the  service  of  the  spring ; 
I  must  lift  a  note  and  call 
Bird  and  beast  to  madrigal. 

But  on  mountain,  peak,  and  shelf, 
Over  wood  and  plain  and  glade, 
Spring  is  singing  for  herself, 
She  can  do  without  my  aid. 

She  can  do  without  my  aid  ! 
So  I  need  not  sing  to  you  : 
Singing  is  my  only  trade  ! 
What  the  deuce  am  I  to  do  ? 


68 


THE  BUDS 

I  can  see 

The  buds  have  come  again 

On  every  tree. 

Through  some  dear  intercourse  of  sun 

and  dew, 
And  thrilling  root,  and  folding  earth, 

anew 
They  come  in  beauty. 

They  up  to  the  sun, 

As  on  a  breast,  are  lifting  every  one 

Their  leaves. 

Under  the  eaves 

The  sparrows  are  in  hiding 

Making  love. 

59 


60  THE  BUDS 

There  is  a  chatter  in  the  woods  above, 
Where  the  black  crow 
Is  saying  what  his  sweetheart  wants 
to  know. 

The  sun  is  shining  fair, 

And  the  green  is  on  the  tree, 

And  the  wind  goes  everywhere 
Whispering  so  secretly ; 

You  will  die  unless  you  do 

Find  a  mate  to  whisper  to. 


GREEN  BOUGHS 

Birds  were  singing  everywhere 

In  the  sunny  spaces, 
Blackbird,  thrush,  and  linnet  were 
Flashing  through  the  flashing  air 

Full  of  airs  and  graces. 

Up  and  down  and  round  about, 

Soaring,  gliding,  swinging, 
Darting  in  and  scudding  out, 
While  through  all  the  pretty  rout 
Came  their  frantic  singing. 

And  upon  the  sunny  view 

Happy  trees  were  holding 
Pretty  baby  leaves  anew, 
Freshly  bathed  in  the  dew, 
For  the  sun's  beholding. 

61 


62  GREEN  BOUGHS 

Loud  he  shouted  through  the  plain 
(Golden- voiced  and  glad  he), 

Dance  them  up  with  might  and  main, 

Toss  the  baby  leaves  again 
Till  they  see  their  daddy. 


AS  EVENING  FALLS 

At  eve  the  horse  is  freed  of  plough  or 
wain, 
And   all    things   turn    from   labour 
unto  rest ; 
The    scattered    sheep    are    gathering 
home  again, 
And    every  bird   is  winging  to  its 
nest; 
And  every  beast  goes  to  his  den  once 
more 
By  hedge  or  hill.      Each  mother  is 
aware 
That  little  feet 

Have  paused  in  field  or  street, 
And  she  will  hear  a  knocking  at  the 
door 
And  open  it,  and  see  her  children 
there. 


63 


BLUE  STARS  AND  GOLD 

While    walking   through    the    trams 

and  cars 
I  chanced  to  look  up  at  the  sky, 
And  saw  that  it  was  full  of  stars. 

So  starry-sown  that  you  could  not, 
With  any  care,  have  stuck  a  pin 
Through  any  single  vacant  spot. 

And  some  were  shining  furiously, 
And  some   were   big  and  some  were 

small, 
But  all  were  beautiful  to  see. 

Blue  stars  and  gold,  a  sky  of  grey, 
The  air  between  a  velvet  pall ; 
I  could  not  take  my  eyes  away. 

And  there  I  sang  this  little  psalm 
Most  awkwardly,  because  I  was 
Standing  between  a  car  and  tram. 

64 


THE  IMP 

At  the  evening  hour  I  bend 

In  a  reverential  awe, 
Day  draws  darkly  to  its  end, 

In  fulfilment  of  the  law  : 
So  I  bow  and  make  my  peace, 

To  the  power  of  gloom  I  pray, 
For  he  causeth  day  to  cease 

By  his  universal  Nay. 

When  the  sun  shines  bright  again 

And  the  day  laughs  to  the  sky, 
When  the  distant  hills  are  plain 

To  the  leaping  of  my  eye  ; 
Lust  of  life  shall  make  me  sin, 

Sin  and  laugh  and  dance  and  pray 
To  him  who  makes  the  day  begin 

By  his  universal  Yea. 

65  F 


66  THE  IMP 

Yea  and  nay  and  here  and  there, 

Back  and  forth,  begin  and  end, 
Joy  and  woe  and  foul  and  fair, 

Give  and  take  and  break  and  mend ; 
These  are  words  which  I  despise 

Although  at  morn  and  eve  I  pray, 
Throwing  dust  into  the  eyes 

Of  the  gods  of  Yea  and  Nay. 


THE  NODDING  STARS 


I  think  the  stars  do  nod  at  me, 
But  not  when  people  are  about, 

For  they  regard  me  curiously 
Whenever  I  go  out. 

I  may  have  been  a  star  one  day, 
One  of  the  rebel  host  that  fell, 

And  they  are  nodding  down  to  say, 
"  Come  back  to  us  from  hell." 

Perhaps  they  shout  to  one  another 
"  There  he  is  !  "  or,  "That  is  he  !  " 

And  tell  it  to  some  other  mother 
Than  the  one  that  walloped  me. 


67 


68       THE  NODDING  STARS 


II 

Brothers  !   what  is  it  ye  mean  ? 

What  is  it  ye  try  to  say  ? 
That  so  earnestly  ye  lean 

From  the  spirit  to  the  clay. 

There  are  weary  gulfs  between 

Here  and  sunny  Paradise, 
Brothers  !   what  is  it  ye  mean 

That  ye  search  with  burning  eyes 

Down  for  me  whose  fire  is  clogged, 
Clamped  in  sullen  earthy  mould, 

Battened  down  and  fogged  and  bogged 
Where  the  clay  is  seven-fold  ? 


THE  NODDING  STARS       69 


in 

If  ye  mean  revolt,  if  ye 

Raise  the  standard,  do  not  seek 
Help  or  heartening  from  me, 

I  am  very,  very  weak; 

My  wings  are  clipped :  the  crown  of 
gold 

Would  not  fit  me  now,  my  rage 
Is  as  futile  as  the  scold 

Of  a  linnet  in  a  cage. 

Do  ye  look  to  me  for  aid, 
O,  my  brothers  far  away  ? 

I  whom  god  and  star  betrayed 
When  ye  stamped  me  into  clay  ! 

O,  my  dears  !   I'm  nodding,  too, 

Hard  as  ever  I  can  try, 
Up  and  up  and  up  to  you, 

Where  you  nod  upon  the  sky. 


THE  CROWN  OF  THORNS 

A  man  had  many  sins,  and  he 
Looked  upon  them  pridefully, 
And  thereof  he  made  a  crown 
Of  thorns. 

He  made  thereof  a  thorny  crown, 
He  pressed  it  down  upon  his  brow. 
And  he  walks  in  triumph  now. 

And  he  walks  in  triumph  now, 
Crowned    without    and    crowned 

within, 
He  has  triumphed  over  sin. 

He  has  triumphed  over  sin, 

He  named  it  honour  and  renown, 
And  thereof  he  made  a  crown 
Of  thorns. 


70 


THE  ANCIENT  ELF 

I  am  the  maker, 
The  builder,  the  breaker, 
The  eagle-winged  helper, 
The  speedy  forsaker. 


I  am  the  lyre, 
The  water,  the  fire, 
The  tooth  of  oppression, 
The  lips  of  desire. 

The  snare  and  the  wing, 
The  honey,  the  sting ; 
When  you  seek  for  me  look 
For  a  different  thing. 

71 


72  THE  ANCIENT  ELF 

I,  careless  and  gay, 
Never  mean  what  I  say, 
For  my  thoughts  and  my  eyes 
Look  the  opposite  way. 


THE  KING  OF  THE  FAIRY 
MEN 

I  know  the  man  without  a  soul  : 
He  is  happy  as  the  day, 
He  is  happy,  people  say. 

He  is  happy — so  they  say  : 
But  they  do  not  see  him  roll 
On  the  ground  in  very  dole. 

All  along  the  ground  in  dole, 
When  no  one  is  watching,  he 
Bites  the  ground  in  agony. 

He  bites  the  ground  in  agony  : 
But  with  people  he  is  whole  : 
I  know  the  man  without  a  soul ! 


73 


IRONY 

There  spake  a  man  in  days  of  old  : 
"  I  will  believe  that  God  can  be 

As  kind  and  just  as  we  are  told, 
If  He  will  throw  down  here  to  me 

A  bag  of  gold." 

But  when  his  wife  rose  from  her  bed 
To  see  what  kept  her  man  away, 

She  found  him  with  a  broken  head, 
And  on  the  ground  beside  him  lay 

A  bag  of  lead. 


74 


THE  FOUR  OLD  MEN 

In  the  Cafe  where  I  sit 

The  four  old  men  who  look  like  bards 
Are  playing  at  a  game  of  cards  ; 

And  they  are  enjoying  it. 

They  are  so  eager  at  their  play, 
They  shout  together  joyously, 

They  laugh  with  all  their  voices,  they 
Are  like  the  little  boys  you  see 
Playing  in  your  nursery. 

But  they'd  be  angry,  they  would  rave 
And  swear  and  take  it  quite  amiss, 

If  you  walked  across  and  gave 
Each  a  penny  and  a  kiss. 


75 


WOMEN  SHAPES 

(After  Sappho) 

I  could  not  see, 

I  looked  but  could  not  see  ! 

Down  through  the  mists  of  twenty 

hundred  years 
I  peered  profound, 
Where  in  a  round 

Stood  women  shapes  who  mourned 

with  bitter  tears  ; 
Dim  mourners  !    what  is  it  ye  bend 

to  see  ? 
What   is    it   that   ye    look    upon    so 

earnestly  ? 

Will  ye  not  move, 

Will  ye  not  move  aside  ? 

O  fluttering  robe  !    O  little  foot  of 
white 

76 


WOMEN  SHAPES  77 

Pressing  the  grass  ! 

Move  that  my  eyes  may  pass 

Into  your  mystic  circle,  to  the  sight 
Of  that   ye   gaze   upon   in   mournful 

way, 
As    though    upon    the    ground    some 

piteous  body  lay. 

The  moon  rose  full, 

The  silver  moon  soared  high 

Upon  the  clouds,  but  still  we  could 

not  see 
What  lay  between 
Those  figures  on  the  green, 

And  down  the  moon  and  I  stared 

in  a  mystery; 
For  all  the  women  stood,  hushed,  as 

in  prayer 
Around    an    altar    when    the    god    is 

there. 


THE  CLOUDS 

I  stood  and  looked  around  where,  far 
and  nigh, 
The  heather  bloom  was  swaying  in 
the  air, 
The  clouds  chased  one  another  down 
the  sky 
Beyond  my  sight,  and  everywhere 
The  birds  flew  through  the  sunshine, 

where  they  sang 
So  loud,  so  clear,  so  sweet,  the  heavens 
rang 
Of  lark  and  thrush  and  stare. 


I  never  heard  a  melody  so  sweet 
As  I  heard  then  ;  I  never  knew  a  day 

78 


THE  CLOUDS  79 

So   filled   with   sunshine  ;     never  saw 
the  fleet 
And  tinted  clouds  so  high  and  free 
and  gay  ; 
Each  danced  to  the  horizon  like  a  boy 
Let  out  from  school,  each  tumbled  in 
its  joy 
And  ran  away. 


THIS  WAY  TO  WINTER 

Day  by  day 

The  sun's  broad  beam 
Fades  away 

By  a  golden  gleam  ; 
Hark  on  the  cliff 

How  the  sea-gulls  scream  ! 

Eve  by  eve 

The  wind  more  drear 
Stays  to  grieve 

That  the  winter's  near ; 
Hark  how  the  crisp  leaves 

Dart  and  fleer  ! 


Night  by  night 

The  shade  grows  dense, 

80 


THIS  WAY  TO  WINTER     81 

And  the  cold  starlight 

Beams  more  intense  ; 
Hark  how  the  beggar  boy 

Asks  for  pence ! 

Get  you  out 

Your  muffler  grey, 
Your  boots  so  stout, 

And  your  great-coat,  pray, 
And  put  on  your  gloves, 

'Tis  a  hardy  day. 


G 


ETCHED  IN  FROST 

The  corn  is  down, 

The  stooks  are  gone, 
The  fields  are  brown, 

And  the  early  dawn 
Grows  slowly  behind 

Where  the  mountains  frown, 
And  a  thin  white  sun 

Is  shivering  down. 

There  is  not  a  leaf, 

Nor  anything  green, 
To  aid  belief 

That  summer  has  been  ; 
And  the  puffed-up  redbreast 

(Ball  o'  Grief) 
Comes  to  the  window 

For  relief. 

82 


ETCHED  IN  FROST  83 

The  cows  are  in  byre, 

The  sheep  in  fold, 
The  mare  and  the  sire 

Are  safe  from  cold, 
The  hens  are  sheltered, 

In  wood  and  wire, 
And  the  sheep-dog  snoozes 

Before  the  fire. 

The  farmer  can  grin, 

As  he  rubs  his  hands, 
For  the  crops  are  in 

From  the  resting  lands ; 
And  the  wheat  is  stored 

In  the  oaken  bin, 
And  the  farmer's  wife 

Makes  merry  within. 


WHEN  THE  LEAVES  FALL 

When  the  leaves  fall  off  the  trees 

Everybody  walks  on  them  : 
Once  they  had  a  time  of  ease 
High  above,  and  every  breeze 
Used  to  stay  and  talk  to  them. 

Then  they  were  so  debonair 

As  they  fluttered  up  and  down  ; 
Dancing  in  the  sunny  air, 
Dancing  without  knowing  there 
Was  a  gutter  in  the  town. 

Now  they  have  no  place  at  all ! 

All  the  home  that  they  can  find 
Is  a  gutter  by  a  wall, 
And  the  wind  that  waits  their  fall 

Is  an  apache  of  a  wind. 


84 


IN  GREEN  WAYS 

Among  the  leaves  I  make  a  rhyme, 

To  the  winter  in  its  pall, 
For  the  poor,  forgotten  time 

Has  not  had  a  song  at  all. 

Winter  !   winter  !    do  not  fear, 
You  shall  have  an  icy  crown 

At  the  falling  of  the  year, 

When    the    leaves    have    tumbled 
down. 

I  am  singing  to  you  here, 

Though  the  bud  is  on  the  tree, 

At  the  falling  of  the  year 
You  will  sing  a  song  to  me. 


85 


AT  THE  EDGE  OF  THE  SEA 

There  was  a  river  that  rose 

In  the  cool  of  the  morn, 
It    leaped    down    the     side    of    the 
mountain, 
And  ran  through  the  meadows  and 
corn, 
But  it  came  at  the  last  to  a  cave 

By  the  edge  of  the  sea, 
And  it  fell  through  the  darkness  and 
vanished 
Forever  from  me. 

I  am  sad  for  the  river  that  fell 
Through  the  darkness  away, 

From  the  meadows  and  corn,  from  the 
sun, 
From  the  light  of  the  day  ; 

86 


AT  THE  EDGE  OF  THE  SEA   87 

I  could  weep  for  the  river  that  danced 

In  the  light  of  the  day, 
And  sank  through  the  darkness  and 
vanished 

Forever  away. 


DARK  WINGS 

Sing  while  you  may,  O  bird  upon  the 
tree ! 
Although    on    high,     wide  -  winged 
above  the  day 
Chill    evening    broadens    to    immen- 
sity ; 
Sing  while  you  may. 


On  thee,  wide-hovering  too,  intent  to 

slay, 
The  hawk's  slant  pinion  buoys  him 

terribly  : 
Thus  near  the  end  is  of  thy  happy 

lay. 

88 


DARK  WINGS  89 

The  day  and  thou  and  miserable  me 
Dark  wings  shall  cover  up  and  hide 
away 
Where    no    song    stirs    of     bird    or 
memory ; 
Sing  while  you  may. 


THE  LIAR 

Did  you  think,  Old  Grizzly-Face !  to 
frighten  me  ? 
To   frighten   me   who   fronted   you 

before 
Times  out  of  mind, 
When,  through  that  sudden  door, 
You  took  and  bound  and  cast  me  to 
the  sea, 
Far  from  my  kind, 
Far  from  all  friendly  hands — now  I 
Tremble  no  longer  at  your  whisper, 
at  your  lie. 

I  go  with  you,  but  only  till  the  end 
Of  one  small  hour;  and  when  the 

hour  is  done 
I  shall  again 
Arise  and  leap  and  run 

90 


THE  LIAR  91 

From  the  wind-swept,   icy  caves  :    I 

shall  ascend, 
I  shall  attain 
To  the  pearly  sky  and  the  open  door 

and  the  infinite  sun, 
And  find  again  my  comrades  with  me, 

every  one. 


So,  once  more,  here  are  my  hands  to 
wind 
Your  cords  about  :  here  are  my  feet 

to  tie 
Straitly  and  fast ; 
And  here,  on  either  eye, 
Press  your  strong  fingers  until  I  am 
blind  : 
Now,  at  the  last, 
Heave  me  upon  your  shoulder,  whisper- 
ing sly, 
As  you  so  oft  before  have  whispered, 
your  dark  lie. 


92  THE  LIAR 

A  day  dawns  surely  when  you  will  not 
dare 
To  come  to  me — then  you  will  hide 

away 
In  your  dark  lands  ; 
Then  you  will  pray  ; 
You  will  snarl  and  tremble   when  I 
seek  you  there 
To  bind  your  hands, 
To    whisper   truth    where    you    have 

whispered  lies, 
To  press  my  mighty  fingers  down  upon 
your  eyes. 


THE  TRAMP'S  DREAM 

I  saw  this  in  a  place  at  the  world's 

end, 
When  He  was   left   alone  without  a 

friend : 

From  every  side,  from  far  and  near 

they  came, 
The  blind  and  battered  and  the  lewd 

and  lame, 
The  frightened  people,  and  the  helpless 

crew 
Who  hid  in  cellars,  and  the  stragglers 

who 
Dodged  here  and  there  in  corners  of 

the  earth 
Cursing  the  sun,  and  they  who  from 

their  birth 

93 


94       THE  TRAMP'S  DREAM 

Were  lapped  in  madness,  raved,  and 

strode  along, 
Chaunting  in  fury  to  a  flighty  song 
Their  holy  wrath  :   and  all  the  hungry 

folk, 
Who  through  the  world  had  rummaged, 

yelped,  and  broke 
To  a  stiff  run,  for  vengeance  was  in 

view, 
And  every  one  knew  what  he  had  to  do. 

It  was  the  Judgment  Day  ;    and  so 

they  sped 
(These    vagabonds    who    always    had 

been  dead), 
And  packed  their  multitudes  into  the 

space 
Between    two    stars :      a    deep    and 

hollow  place, 
Rolling  immense,  a  swirl  of  blue  and 

grey 
Steeped  out  of  eye -shot:    so  it  ever 

lay 


THE  TRAMP'S  DREAM       95 

Swinging  in  whispers,   prickling  to  a 

sound, 
Till  the  wind's  whimper,  rolling  round 

and  round, 
Jolted  to  thunder,  or  the  dreary  sigh 
Of  a  dead  man  drummed  madness  on 

the  sky. 

There  they  were  silent,   every  awful 

stare, 
With  a  dumb  grin,  was  lifting  anywhere ; 
When  sudden  He  came  stately,  march- 
ing fleet, 
From  the  red  sun,  with  fire  about  His 

feet, 
And  flaming  brow.     And  as  He  walked 

in  fire, 
Those  million,  million  muzzles  lifted 

higher, 
Stared  at  Him,  grinned  in  fury,  toned 

a  yelp, 
A  vast   malignant   query,    "  Did  you 

help  ?  " 


96       THE  TRAMP'S  DREAM 

And  at  the  sound  the  jangled  spaces 

threw 
Echo  to  echo,  thunders  bit  and  flew 
Through  deeper  thunders,  into  such  a 

bay 
The   Judge   stood  frightened,  turned, 

and  stole  away. 


THE  ROAD 

Because  our  lives  are  cowardly  and 

sly, 

Because  we  do  not  dare  to  take  or 
give. 
Because  we  scowl  and  pass  each  other 
by, 
We  do  not  live ;  we  do  not  dare  to 
live. 

We  dive,   each  man,   into  his  secret 

house, 

And  bolt  the  door,   and  listen  in 

affright, 

Each  timid  man  beside  a  timid  spouse, 

With  timid  children  huddled  out  of 

sight. 

97  h 


98  THE  ROAD 

Kissing  in  secret,  fighting  secretly  ! 
We  crawl  and  hide  like  vermin  in  a 
hole, 
Under  the  bravery  of  sun  and  sky 
We  flash  our  meannesses  of  face  and 
soul. 

Let  us  go  out  and  walk  upon  the  road, 
And   quit   for  evermore  the  brick- 
built  den, 
The  lock  and  key,   the   hidden,   shy 
abode 
That  separates  us  from  our  fellow- 
men. 

And  by  contagion  of  the  sun  we  may 
Catch  at  a  spark  from  that  primeval 
fire, 
And  learn  that  we  are  better  than  our 
clay, 
And    equal    to    the    peaks    of   our 
desire. 


A  REPLY 

To  Ralph  Hodgson 


You  have  sent  your  verse  to  me 

And  a  poet  must  reply 
To  the  gracious  courtesy 

With  whatever  tune  is  nigh, 
With  whatever  little  air 
Can  be  plucked  from  anywhere. 

Verse  has  fled  from  me  so  long, 
I  have  quite  forgot  to  sing ; 

I  who  had  a  hoard  of  song 
Now  can  scarce  find  anything 

Worth  the  singing,  though  I  grope 

Less  with  fingers  than  with  hope. 

99  H  2 


100  A  REPLY 

Singing  at  your  highest  tone ! 

How  shall  I  return  the  rhyme, 
Whom  the  gods  have  left  alone 

Such  a  very  lengthy  time  ? 
So  I  veer  and  break  and  yaw 
On  my  little  pipe  of  straw. 


A  REPLY  101 


n 


Lift  up  my  heart,  and  sing  again 
As  once  you  did  when  I  was  young, 

Before  I  knew  of  woe  and  pain, 
When  every  happy  bird  that  sung 

I  sang  to  it,  and  it  to  me 

Repeated  half  the  melody. 

Like  a  thrush  at  peep  of  light, 
I  would  pipe  my  sunny  lay, 

Singing  how  the  blackest  night 
Always  has  to  run  away 

When  the  sun  climbs  from  afar 

Brandishing  his  scimitar. 

Like  an  eagle's  is  your  cry  ; 

More  of  fierceness  than  of  glee 
Sent  your  pinions  to  the  sky 

Bounding  our  humanity  ; 
Sent  you  winging  to  the  sun 
That  is  seen  of  every  one. 


102  A  REPLY 


in 

You  have  climbed  a  hill,  and  I 
Climbed  it  too  ;    we  saw  the  sun 

Toiling  up  his  hill  of  sky, 
Shouting  to  the  night  to  run 

And  hide  itself  before  he  came 

With  his  scimitar  of  flame. 

With  his  scimitar  of  heat, 

With  his  diadem  of  fire, 
Lightning  singing  at  his  feet, 

Thunder  chanting  in  the  choir, 
Twice  ten  thousand  leagues  of  wind 
Shouting  victory  behind. 

You  and  I  know  well  the  hill, 

We  have  climbed  it  up  and  down, 

Knowing  what  there  is  of  ill, 
Knowing  what  it  is  to  frown, 

Lest  the  bitter  word  should  be 

On  the  lips  of  ecstasy. 


A  REPLY  103 


IV 


Still  lift  up  my  heart  and  sing 
Once  again,  as  once  you  knew, 

That  the  end  of  everything 
Is  to  build  it  up  anew. 

Are  you  sad,  my  heart  ?   then  keep 

Singing,  singing,  lest  you  weep. 

For  whoever  climbs  that  hill 
They  shall  feed  on  bitterness, 

Wearying  along  until, 
At  the  very  top  of  stress, 

They  shall  eat  their  hearts  and  know 

Joy  is  kernel  of  their  woe. 

They  shall  breathe  a  sweeter  air, 
They  shall  see  with  other  eyes 

What  they  are  and  what  they  were, 
And  the  strange  and  sad  disguise 

Of  humanity  will  slip 

From  the  shoulder  and  the  lip. 


104  A  REPLY 


Them  the  sun  shall  greet  and  call, 
"  Hail,  and  hail,  and  hail  again, 

Elder  brothers  of  us  all, 
Who  descended  into  pain  ; 

Welcome  to  the  thrones  that  ye 

Sat  in  through  eternity. 

"  Who  descended  to  the  heart, 
Who  descended  to  the  hell, 

Gathering  every  poisoned  dart 
Of  pain  and  sorrow,  hiding  well 

In  their  bosoms  all  they  knew 

Of  the  sin  a  god  can  do." 

They  shall  climb  the  hell  again, 
They  shall  scale  the  heart  anew, 

Treading  back  without  a  stain 

Through  the  sunlight  and  the  dew, 

From  the  rigour  of  the  clay 

To  the  thrones  of  yesterday. 


THE  HOLY  TIME 

The  drowsy  sun  trod  slowly  to  his 
rest ; 
He  gathered  all  his  dusty  gold  again 
Away  with  him; 
He  only  left  a  dim 

Red  colour  on  the  sky,  a  ruddy 
stain 
Scarce  to  be  seen  upon  the  quiet  west  : 
So  evening  came,  and  darkness,  and 

the  sound 
Of  moving  feet  upon  the  whispering 
ground. 

Like  timid  girls  the  shades  went  pacing 
down 
The  slopes  of  evening,  trailing  soberly 
Their  vestments  grey  ; 

105 


106  THE  HOLY  TIME 

Far,  far  away 

The  last  red  colour  faded  to  a  brown, 

So  very  faint  the  eye  could  scarcely  see : 

And  then  the  skirts  of  evening  swung 

upon 
That  little  distant  light,  and  it  was 
gone. 

The  bee  sped  home,  the  beetle's  wing 
of  horn 
Went    booming    by,    the    darkness 
every  side 
Gathered  around, 
On  air  and  sky  and  ground  ; 

The   pliant   trees   sang   gently,    far 
and  wide, 
In  cadenced  lift  of  leaves,  a  tale  of 
morn  ; 
And  then  the  moon's  white  circle, 

faint  and  thin, 
Looked  steady  on  the  earth — there 
is  no  sin. 


Printed  by  K.  &  R.  Clark,  Limited,  Edinburgh. 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

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